thought process: blogs body image introspection privilege thinking WTF
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BRAIN TOO MANY THOUGHTS.
One ever present.
Contentment vs Elite.
Contentment, enjoying what you have, embracing the lowbrow, the dirt, soil, sweat, labor backbone of the human experience, also mob mentality, lesser education, eat the weak.
Elite, seeking enlightenment, seeking higher education and greater values of thought. art, high-brow, couture, sophistication, social justice, snobbery. disdain.
People need, and they want. We as humans want to be valued and we want to feel special. “Love” We seek love from those we love or place value on. Once a person gets their basic needs met food, water, shelter, etc, the next thing they see is love, or to have a value put on their life. Religious or spiritual people often place that onus on their gods, desiring the favor of their gods, giving their life meaning. People with a good or high self esteem often feel that within themselves, as they love themselves and since they love themselves, getting love from themselves… well it’s a constant cycle until something happens to diminish their view of themselves to where their own love becomes not uplifting anymore. Some people are devoted to having a partner. that one person who views them as so damn special that they can function without each other. They love the other person, so they require a love back to make them feel special. If joe schmore loves molliesue, and mollie sue has no desire, intrest or value in joeschmoe then joeschmoe’s love holds no value… It’s like the love is the paper currency, but the desire to feel valued by someone who you value is the gold that backs that paper. love being jsut a way to find value in your life. monogamy touches on people’s inherent fear of not being special, not having a value. They need that one person who they value to value them back and only them, or else they don’t have a value and they feel of less value. If their partner values another similarly then there’s a deflation of that currency. Even poly that has a tier system has a note of this in that. It’s a step in a good direction. “Well I have to be the most special, but then others can be a little bit special”. Some people find love and value through a hobby. They value that hobby or job or skill and so when they feel they have contributed to it and that hobby has been bettered because of their contribution they have value. they love what they do, and shit the collection of trains or whatever loves them back because that’s a damn amazing collection of trains. Addicts are loved by their addictions. People need to at least value themselves somewhat or they will die of their own making. Abusive relationships come from when one person tears away all the other sources of value from another’s life and makes them dependent on the abusers value aka “love”.
Applying logic to an illogical emotion. I believe that’s called psychology. It’s a damn good thing I never went into psychology. I’d be shit at it. I’d also offend every person who is into monogamy.
That being said. I know that inside me there is a desire to feel special and loved. I’m hoping that if I temper it consistently with patience and logic, I will seek value from those who are worthy; of my family, of my friends, of lovers, of mentors, of me…
And there’s that fight for balance!. The desire to feel special (Contentment) verses the desire to be a well rounded, enlightened, omnilovingish kind of person (Elite) I’d like to say that my logic makes becoming elite, in this case, what I want to do. Unfortunately, I can’t help this instinctual drive to find people to make me feel special (content). I guess this is more a compromise then a balance, but it’s so stinkin’ similar.
fuckfuckfuck brain stop it. I hate thinking laterally. I should have drawn this in a diagram but it would have been illegible.
There was an ocean cross breeze. When we started the light bounced around the room giving everything a fantastic white-cool glow. His skin was fresh from a shower. The thought was actually a nap, but for some reason conversation kept happening. As I touched him and as he touched me, we kept talking. He told me how he touches himself. He told me about his body and what he thinks about. I showed him how I touch myself. I felt embarrassed but seeing his reactions helped. I felt desirable.
As we sat facing each other he entered me and we kept talking. The clouds outside were dark but they broke right around where the sun was, by this point, setting. I leaned my hands back against the rim of the fold out bed and worked my hips back and forth. The angle was fantastic and hit things that felt amazing. The sun was a dark red splotch on the horizon, the clouds pushing the last of the day away.
He came while on top of me, my legs wrapped tightly around him, pulling him into me. When his body shudders I can’t help but feel something well up deep inside by my solar plexus. Some stupid glee or joy.
I gave him back to the functioning world after that. He has a purpose and I won’t steal him away from what he needs to do. That’s not saying I didn’t want to though.
thought process: body image history introspection thinking
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There’s some scars on my knuckles from where they hit the lights on the fly rail.
There’s some burns on my arm from popping hot oil.
There’s a scar on my right knee where I slid across gravel struggling to remove things from my life.
there’s a scar on my left knee where I fell, got back up, fell again, only to get back up.
There’s a scar on my spine from where the dr put Humpy Dumpty back together again.
There’s a scar on my forehead where I caressed the cement.
There’s a scar down my chest where I tore myself open with grief.
I watch these girls on american television. Models, actresses, people who are idolized for their perfect skin and well formed bodies. I can’t imagine how one could have survived so long so un-marred.
What kind of a life is lived without receiving any scars?
thought process: blogs body image daily life history thinking
I’m sure a ton of you are scoffing. If you’ve seen me running around naked or in silly outfits, or stripping through a window or talking up and participating in class, you’re probably doubting the sincerity of my title.
I’m very good at disassociating my actions with myself.
I can let over 400 people put their fingers inside me, but I can’t bring myself to kiss a play partner unless they make it 100% clear they want it. I can be front and center in a nude photo, but I still feel the need to ask if I can sit down near someone.
I think this stems back to being younger and growing up being told I’m repulsive. I always tried to walk lightly as to not shake the floor. I’d breathe softly as to not sound large, I’d suck it in when passing folks as to fit into smaller spaces and not even possibly brush them. I can’t even cuddle or hold someone for a long time as I feel like I’m about to pass out because I try to slow my breathing and I tense my body as to not put too much weight on them.
I think this is also rooted in my control issues as well. You can strip me down and degrade me as much as possible, but as long as I have control of my mind, I’ll always be thinking of ways to be less obtrusive. I don’t drink, I don’t get high, I don’t do hypnosis, I don’t orgasm around others. I don’t lose control of my mind.
If I sense even the slightest inkling that you may not want me around I’ll latch onto it.
The only time I feel like I can move past this is when working under the orders of others. When I’m volunteering or working, I’ll talk to people. I’ll assert myself. Only if I know I’m in the right.
I don’t play other’s games. You’ll sometimes see those “Player” guides talk about giving distance, insulting the person you are trying to pick up, etc… When people do things like that with me, it shuts me down. “ok, goodbye” is my response because I don’t want to force myself on someone.
Unfortunately, what I do could be seen as playing games, and I promis you I’m not. I give distance because I don’t know if someone wants me near. I insult people because I’m a jackass, and my version of courting someone still involves poking them and pulling their hair like a 12 year old.
I wish I wasn’t a social wuss. A million friends and acquaintances. I hold Everyone in my hands…. at arms end… away from myself.
(I’ll return to hot action and rehash some of my DOWF experiences for you kids maybe later… Sorry to be all deep and shit.)
thought process tmi: bdsm body image getting off petpeeves thinking
I’m actually impressed that it doesn’t. It has taken me a LONGLONGLONGLONGLONG time to get to this point. I used to be terrorized for my body, but honestly, when people were mocking me all I could feel was pity for them. I wondered what hurt them or what were they hiding that made them ache to tear someone else down.
Occasionally I goof off on webcam because i like to be a little bit exhibitionist. Today I was playing on some that are associated with some chatrooms. So, I was in a chatroom just to mess with the camera. I wasn’t actually talking or paying attention to the chat. I could see how many people were viewing me, who was viewing me and I had a little instant messenger thing that would relay me private messages. So, I’m goofing off, I show some face, some tits and ass and when I’m no longer entertained or I get hot enough that I actually want to get off, I log off.
So I go to log off and I catch the chat and people talking about, “Oh I wouldn’t be showing my ass off on camera if it was all cottage cheesy and pimpled and bruised like that…” and someone else said, “i get that, but don’t make fun of a heart surgery scar”, “But her pussy and ass looked so loose” So I chime in, “Yep, it’s bruised, it’s large, it’s lumpy, it’s got some pimples. I’ve got scars. I’ve got a loose vagina and ass. I’m fat… big deal. The bruises were earned having fun, the scars were earned in other ways, the loose vagina and ass dosen’t matter because I have the necessary muscle control of them. I’m fine, thanks, but you don’t seem to be. Good luck getting over your insecurities. Night!”
Like for reals, I’m not posting here because they hurt my feelings, but rather becuase I’m astonished they didn’t. I got a message this week from a friend about this new toy they have and the fantasies they’ve had of fucking with me with it. I got some awesome play by another friend on sunday (the bruises). I have a card on my wall filled with names of people who love the crud outta me. Sometimes it’s really AWESOME being me.
My body isn’t up to my standard of beautiful, but it’s my standard of functional. As long as it’s functioning I’m going to have fun with it. THAT is an important lesson I’ve learned.
dirty talk: bdsm body image dirty talk feminism getting off petpeeves queer sex
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By which I mean, hands go inside me easily. Part of me loves that, and part of me is freaked out by it.
On one hand, there’s the world telling me that it’s no fun to fuck a loose pussy. People want it tight. Guys and their GIANTMANLYPENISES are supposed to tear my delicate tight flower apart and all that jazz. While I’d like to say I’m above that, I still have moments where I’m embarrassed I can take so much so easily.
On the other hand. FUCK THEM. I mean for reals. My vagina doesn’t just exist to be all tiny and delicate and pleasurable for you while being painful for me (Don’t get me wrong, that’s totally spankbank material for me but it’s not the sole purpose of it) So If using my vagina to it’s full potential means it’s not the tightest little opening on earth then so be it. I’m gonna have fun with my body.
I’m not a little in that common idea of the term. I don’t like to have huge stuffed animals, outlandish bright colors, big doe eyes, pigtails, and pigeon toes. Heck, that wasn’t how I was as a kid either.
I do get little feelings sometimes, but I’m pretty sure they are normal feelings that are associated into the little identity just because I see it reflected in my friends who ARE littles.
I’d like to have someone to be a parental figure. I’m into having someone who is smarter/wiser/more learned guiding me and molding me. I’ve always wanted to be the best in the class, to catch on the quickest to make my teacher/parents/mentors proud. People who are more intelligent or are wiser turn me on because I want to tap into that and learn from them. I’m an unintentional brown noser and not because I want to be awesome by association, but rather that I hope to learn how to be awesome myself.
I’d like someone who could be a bit of my protector. This post was inspired by a friend’s post about the song “breathe me” by Sia. He said when he feels that the daddy within him ache to hold his girl. Inversely, when I hear that song I ache to be held by someone. To surrender my trust and well being into someone’s hands for a bit. I can’t remember the last time I relaxed into someone’s arms.
Also, I’d like the discipline. I’m not always good at making sure I’m doing the right things. Sometimes it seems like it would be nice to have someone who will correct me when I fuck up.
But while this SOUNDS so nice…
I’m 5’10″, 300lbs, skeptical and I’ve been single for 6 years. That means I’m kinda large and intimidating so I don’t really need protecting and cuddling me is kinda like trying to cuddle a pitbull. I don’t really learn well from other people because half the time when they say something I go home and google it anyway. I’m skeptical about believing things from one source only. Since I’ve been single for so long, i’m ok at being sexual but horrible at being intimate, so cuddling is almost always awkward. Lastly, try telling me what to do will generally get most people ignored or yelled at. I’ve been on my own for too long and have figured out how to make my own decisions.
But the thought is nice.
thought process: bdsm blogs body image daily life feminism health petpeeves privilege thinking
AKA “Why i’m not worried about offending you.”
I’m fat. That’s not going to change. Even if I diet like a fiend and make a huge lifestyle change, I’ll probably never get under 240lbs without some horrible invasive surgery. having said that, something new struck me recently.
I was looking at a picture that compared a girl in a cosplay outfit who was plus size, but not overly so, to another girl playing the same character but who was thin. Both outfits were well done but thinner one was shot in a professional portrait setting, so they probably had a better shot at presenting their costume nicely. The general consensus was that the larger girl was repulsive and should not be out like that. Some people made statements like “whale” or “put her out of her misery”. It seemed as if they were offended by having to look even voluntarily at an image of a large girl, god forbid if they were in the same space as her too!
Then there’s meme roth and all her fat shaming bullshit she’s spewing which is really just a product of our media society. God forbid the fatties live alongside these bastions of thin. As if thin people are never irritating to be near, or never have health problems. God, fat people are made fun of all over, and even if there’s a fat person at a gym they are still made fun of when clearly they are trying to change.
So if simply existing and not being absolutely ashamed of myself, was reason that others are offended, then why should I be so damn worried about offending their delicate sensibilities in other ways?
Combine that with people who simply offend me with no concern… people who talk on the phone (bluetooth headsets in particular) really fucking loud, people who wear perfume that makes me sneeze and have mini asthma attacks, people who wear their pants way too fucking low, people who use homophobic slurs in common language, people who call the entire area of the vulva the vagina, people who sport conservative or stupid bumperstickers, or the ideals behind them… Sarah Palin or Rush Limbaugh… The list goes on.
Mash all these things together and you have an atmosphere where I stop caring if I’m offending you and I jsut start enjoying myself. I’ll still be a good person. I’ll still hold the door for you, tip well, let you cross the street, and other courteous things, but don’t be suprized if I’m wearing my pro-abortion t-shirt while doing it, or if I’ve got a leash on, or my knees tied together and my panties stuffed in my mouth with tape.
I don’t care if my existence offends you.
thought process: body image gta health job photos thinking
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Yesterday I taught a personal record number of students yesterday. 14 in one day. That’s 2, 2hour back to back sessions of 7 students each. That’s 14 pelvic exams in about 4 hours…
In my line of work it’s an entertaining thought to sometimes count your students. I’ve had 39 in one week, 14 in one day, probably around 200 people if not more, have been in my vagina.
I’ve lost 6 lbs in 5 weeks. when you’re a bajillion lbs that’s not much, but I guess it’s a start. I also like to blame on my extremely slow progression on the fact that I’m rebuilding muscle now too so… So there!
dirty talk thought process tmi: body image dirty talk getting off thinking
One of my favorite lays was this guy mike. I met him online and went to his place at like 5 in the morning. That could have been really stupid but he turned out to be some average kid about 2 years older then me really nice, quite cute, about my height, about half of my weight, nice arms, played guitar, had a decent job, there was really nothing wrong with him except his apartment was kinda drab, but hey it was a bachelor pad. he kept night hours because he did overnight shifts.
So I get over to his place and after some small talk he asks if he can kiss me, I say Oh sure. so we start making out and he starts touching me, and he’s like, “is this ok”and I say yeah, this i good. That sorta gives him the ok , and we really start getting into it. and then he starts getting a bit animalistic on me. It was really hot.
I don’t think I’ve ever been with anyone who was just that crazy about my body. Guys have been ok with my body, and have been willing to overlook the majority of it because I’m a cool person or I give good head or they just wanted something soft wet and squishy. There’s been a few guys who’ve tried to LOVE my body to the point of fetishization, grabbing my stomach, rubbing it, licking it, and almost being more into my fa then ME. that was not ok. This guy though was simply just into my body. everything about it, nothing more then the rest, he wanted to touch, lick grab look at, squeeze every inch of me. it was really awesome.
And we fucked, and then when we were done, it was like 10 seconds of laying together and him touching me and he was ready to go again, I apparently made him that hot. He wasn’t the greatest lay, I don’t know if i just made him too excited, but it was very highschool rushed and very standard porn vanilla. omgkissing omgboobies omggirlnaked omghead omglickingpussy omgfuckingin outinoutinout-done, peel off condom, flop down. but just his sheer gusto for ME, made it hot and super fun, he just could not avoid getting hard at the sight of me. We had his highschool style of sex about 5 times in the span of about 2 hours.
It’s been a while since I’ve felt that comfortable. Unfortunately, that was only fleeting, but I just wish I had a little more time like that. I started getting a more daytime schedule and we wound up losing contact.
I like to please people, and I always have this nagging fear or worry that if I’m not directly doing something to my partner I’m not being pleasing overall. It was nice to know that for once being able to lay back and relax was truly undoubtedly pleasing to my partner.